Come Home
by SMacked4ever
Summary: Mac has been gone for two weeks to visit Peyton in England. Stella find herself missing Mac more than ever. SMacked, PMAC But I'm all for SMacked Stella's POV
1. Waiting

**SMacked Oneshot, might add more chapters if you guys like it and if I can think of some more ideas for chapters. Read and tell me what you think! I'm open for any suggestions if you've got an idea to continue the story.**

**Summary: Mac has been gone for two weeks to visit Peyton in England. Stella finds herself missing Mac more than ever. SMacked, PMAC (But I'm all for SMacked!!) Stella's POV**

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY. I wish I did though…and I also don't own the song "Come Home" by Onerepublic**

Chapter One: Waiting

I need him here. Not having him here has made me realize one thing: I love him. But the problem is, he doesn't love me back. He's gone now, visiting Peyton Driscoll, who is the love of his life. He's been gone for two weeks, leaving me waiting for him to come home. It's been too long.

I think of this song, it reminds me of how I'm feeling now, wishing with every moment that he would be home. I've heard it on the radio a few times these past weeks, and every time I hear it, I cry. I want him back, I want him to love me, but I know that it'll never happen.

And as I drive to the New York Crime Lab, I hear the song again.

_Hello world_

_Hope you're listening_

_Forgive me if I'm young_

_For speaking out of turn_

I've called him a few times; we talked about work, but nothing else. I asked him if he was having a good time, and he wasn't. He was having a _glorious _time. Without me. Without his best friend at his side.

_There's someone, I've been missing_

_I think that they could be_

_The better half of me_

_They're in the wrong place, trying to make it right_

_But I'm tired justifying_

_So I say to you…_

There has been someone I've been missing. And his name is Mac Taylor. Has he been missing me? No. He's been having too much of a great time to think about me.

Mac's my best friend. Does that make him the better half of me? As he's been gone, I haven't been my usual self. With him here, at my side, I feel like nothing could ever happen to me. But with him gone, I feel so vulnerable. If I call him again, I'll say to him, "Come home, Mac, you need to come home."

_Come home_

_Come home_

_Cause I've been waiting for you _

_For so long_

_For so long_

_And right now there's a war between the vanities _

_But all I see is you and me_

_The fight for you is all I've ever known_

_So come home…_

_Oh_

I've been waiting long enough. He needs to come home. All I ever see now when I pass by his office is me and him, talking about a case. And I've been fighting for his love long enough.

_I get lost in the beauty _

_Of everything I see_

_The world ain't half as bad_

_As they paint it to be_

_If all the sons_

_If all the daughters_

_Stopped to take it in_

_Well, hopefully the hate subsides and the love can begin_

_It may start now, yeah_

_Well, maybe I'm just dreaming out loud_

_Until then_

I pull up to the crime lab now and hurry to his office doors. I've been wondering his office a lot during the two weeks; it's hard not to notice the room, especially when I see the office so empty. I go to sit in his chair, spinning around a few times in it just to clear that song out of my mind. But the lyrics still replay in my head, I can remember the next part of the song:

_Come home_

_Come home_

_Cause I've been waiting for you _

_For so long_

_For so long_

_And right now there a war between the vanities_

_But all I see is you and me_

_The fight for you is all I've ever known_

_Ever known_

_So come home_

_Oh_

I look around Mac's desk, being nosy. But nothing much is on his desk, only case files and a few pictures of him, Peyton, and the CSI team. It's nice to see his desk so organized, but it's too empty, making it look like he never existed.

I think the others have noticed I've been missing Mac. Maybe they even guessed that I love him. The first week of Mac's absence they tried to talk to me, but during the second week they knew not to bother me, and only said something to me when they were talking about a case. As I get up from my seat and walk around the office, the lyrics to the song come back to me.

_Everything I can't be_

_Is everything you should be_

_And that's why I need you here_

_Everything I can't be_

_Is everything you should be_

_And that's why I need you here_

_So hear this now_

Pacing back and forth across the room, I think, _everything I can't be is everything you should be, Mac. _I need you here; I need to make sure you're all right. I'm looking out his windows now, gazing out at the city. It's a beautiful view, and my mind is taken off Mac.

_Come home_

_Come home_

_Cause I've been waiting for you_

_For so long_

_For so long_

_And right now there's a war between the vanities_

_But all I see is you and me_

_The fight for you is all I've ever known_

_Ever known_

_So come home_

_Come home_

That's when I hear it, the sound I've been waiting for all night. For the last two weeks. I turn around, immediately smiling. And I see him, also smiling, and I'm so glad to see him again.

"Stella," he says.

I rush up to him and hug him. "You're home," I whisper. "Welcome home, Mac."

Again, he smiles, and says, "It's good to be home. I'm glad to see you again."

I nod, for I can't find any words to say. Even though it is past midnight, and I know I should really be home, I'm just glad to be standing next to him. He's back home, back to working at my side, just as it should be. And as we walk out of his office, he doesn't talk about London or his visit with Peyton, he asks me about how it has been going at the crime lab. I'm happy for this, I didn't want to hear about his trip, and I tell him that we've solved a few cases while he was gone. And as we talk, all I can think is, _he's finally back._

**And sorry I haven't updated Into the Blaze for a while. It's been busy this past week...but I'm almost done with Into the Blaze, I'm just finishing a few chapters and proof-reading them before I post them. So sorry for not updating! And I promise to complete Into the Blaze soon!**


	2. Meeting Peyton

**You like? Yes, I will be continuing this story since you guys like it. I might get around to updating Into the Blaze this week, I'm sorry for the delay. And I might post a new story about the CSIs going to Chicago and seeing a NASCAR race--I won tickets and saw the Bush race on Friday. It was awesome! :) So I promise to get around to updating and I hope you enjoy a very short chapter of Come Home. And review!**

Chapter Two: Meeting Peyton 

It has been a while since Mac had gone to England. Two months to be exact. But now, it's Peyton's turn to come and visit the city of New York. God, did I hate finding out that news. And Mac made me come with to pick up Peyton at the airport. He said it would be a good idea if we had met, and after he had mentioned my name to Peyton, I agreed to meet her. I wondered how much he had said about me, and maybe he did care for me while he was gone with Peyton. Now, what he had said about me, I would like to know…

We pulled up to John F. Kennedy Airport and hurried inside. As we waited for Peyton to arrive—either she got lost in the airport or her flight had been delayed (I'm wishing for that to be true)—Mac and I chatted about work, the cases we were solving, the usual talk. But as soon as she arrived, I immediately stopped talking. How could I talk to the love of my life when the person I absolutely despise was standing in the same room as me?

Mac greeted Peyton with a hug and a kiss—I shook my at that, thank God Peyton or Mac didn't see me. He then introduced me to her ("This is Detective Stella Bonasera; she works at the crime lab with me.").

"It's nice to meet you, Stella," she says with a quick shake of my hand.

I forced myself to smile, but I didn't bother say anything. I was sure Mac would have wanted me to say something, but I wouldn't, not even for him. Besides, he didn't say much to me on the way back to the crime lab. Maybe they had forgotten I was even there. I was half tempted on the way to the crime lab to say, "Hello, does anyone want to talk to Stella?" but I kind of liked the idea of no one talking to me, that way I could listen to Mac's and Peyton's conversation. And yes, I had to sit in the backseat of the car. Of course, where else would I have to sit? On the roof of the car, yeah, I don't think so…

I'm glad to see the New York Crime Lab come into view. I don't think I can stand hearing Peyton's voice anymore, but Mac makes me stay with him while he introduces Peyton to the rest of the CSI investigators. Everyone seems so cheerful when they talk to her, they must be glad to see Mac happy with another woman after Claire's death seven years ago. I feel happy for him too, I just wish he could love me.

As everyone starts to go their separate ways—Peyton is now working at the crime lab as a medical examiner—I stand alone in the hallway, watching Mac leave with Peyton. But I'm not alone for long; Lindsay comes to stand next to me. She clearly sees something is wrong.

"Stella," she says quietly. "Are you all right?"

I nod.

She doesn't believe my answer, because she continues on. But I'm surprised at what she says. And I believe her. "I think you two would be better together."

"I want him to see that," I say. "But I don't think he notices that I like him."

"He'll see," Lindsay reassures me. She then walks away, leaving me to be alone again.

_He'll see. _Will he really? Will he notice that I love him? Or will I soon lose my best friend? But with the weeks that come—Peyton will be here for two months—I start to think Lindsay's judgment is wrong.

**Just to clear things up, this is Peyton's first time going to the crime lab and meeting the CSIs. And in the previous chapter, it had been Mac's first time to London. I'll explain how the two met in later chapters.**


	3. Letters to Mac

**Thanks to all who read and review! Hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it! And also, I have only be to London once, so I'm sorry if I mess up on any of the locations or the spellings of the tourist attractions.**

Chapter Three: Letters to Mac

I've been writing to Mac. I don't address them to his apartment; I just write them and put them on my desk at home. There's a pile of letters to him just sitting there, waiting to be mailed to Mac. But the thing is I haven't found the courage to send them to Mac. Mac is either gone or Peyton's around, and I can't let him see the letters. They confess everything I'm feeling, about how I dislike Peyton and that I love Mac. No, he'll never read them.

_Dear Mac,_

_How's London? The sites must be amazing, if you could, take some pictures for me? I hope you're having a great time, and please, don't worry about us at the crime lab, we're fine. Danny almost blew something up, though…no I'm just joking. I'll make sure that won't happen. I'll see you in a week! _

_Sincerely,_

_Stella_

My first letter to him actually got sent in the mail, I thought that one letter wouldn't do any harm. And he didn't forget to mail me back, which made me happy. He hadn't forgotten about me.

_Dear Stella,_

_Don't worry Stel; I got plenty of pictures and a little something for you. No hints, you'll have to wait and see what it is. Peyton and I have been enjoying the time here in London; we've gone sightseeing to Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Tower Bridge, and the Tower of London. We've done some shopping—Peyton of course wanted to do that more than me. On Wednesday night we went on the London Eye, it's an amazing site, Stella. You can see the Thames River—the river separates the city of London—and the entire city lightened up at night. I took pictures from there; I can't wait to show them to you. One time I'd like to take you to see London, Stella, you'd love it. _

_Today we don't have much planned…but on the weekend, we might go see a movie, something like that. We might go up to Stonehenge sometime, too. _

_Danny blew something up? I'll have to fire him…only joking. But please do make sure something like that doesn't happen. I'll see you in a week, Stella._

_Sincerely,_

_Mac_

A long letter…I loved that letter. He wanted to take me to London. And he had bought me a mini toy version of the double-decker buses they have in the city of London--I got a kick out of that, but of course, I had asked for one--along with a few postcards of the city and some of their currency. I kept the bus, the postcards, and the money near his letter on my desk, I wouldn't ever let the things go.

I had planned on sending him another letter. But the next letter that I wanted to send to him wasn't exactly as nice. It was more demanding.

_Dear Mac,_

_I miss you. Hearing that you're having a great time, I'm happy for you. But I have a confession to make. We're best friends; you've been my friend for the longest time. You helped me through so many tough times, Mac, and I've got to thank you for that. I don't know if you feel the same for me, but I love you Mac. Being here in the crime lab without you Mac, I've realized my love for you. I know you're in London, I know you love Peyton, but do you feel the same for me? Being friends is great, I love that we're friends, but if you do love me, tell me. _

_What I'm feeling now is inexplicable. Maybe the words lonely, scared, depressed even may explain it. But I'm feeling so many emotions, that right now, nothing makes sense. The others are noticing this Mac, that's why I need you back. Come home._

_And this song on the radio, it's called "Come home" by Onerepublic, if you listen to it, you'll understand how I'm feeling. But if you don't come home soon, I think I'll go crazy. I'm sorry to tell you this, Mac, but I hate Peyton. She doesn't deserve to be with you, you and I should be together. We will be together. Come home, Mac, come home before I die from not seeing you walk through the crime lab or hearing your voice. If you don't come home earlier, then I think I'll take the day you arrive in New York off. I'll see you then, or soon if you come home early._

_Come home._

_Loving you with every breath,_

_Stella_

I never got around to sending that letter, so Mac didn't come home early. I didn't want him to know I love him and that he didn't deserve Peyton. He has every right to be with Peyton. One half of me believes that is true, and the other half of me thinks Mac needs to realize that his best friend is more important than Peyton. But is that true? Or is that just a selfish thought?

As Peyton was here, my letters not only got shorter, but they were filled with more hate. Suddenly I start to wonder, how long will this relationship last? They'll break up, won't they? They can't love each other, especially since they live in different countries, can they?

_Dear Mac,_

_She always has to be right. I've noticed that. She gives her theory when I come to get an autopsy report and I listen, but when it's my turn to explain what I think happened to the victim, I'm suddenly wrong. How can you love someone who doesn't accept your best friend?_

_Sincerely,_

_Stella_

_Dear Mac,_

_Tell your girlfriend to stop appearing in the lab when I'm working with you. It's like she knows I love you. What, does she think something will happen between us if we're alone for a minute? I want her to leave! She interrupts everything. She belongs in London—without you._

_Sincerely,_

_Stella_

When I come home from work after a late night, I sit down at my desk and pour all my anger into these letters. I'm glad I don't send them; if Mac ever read any of them he may never forgive me for what I say. I'll burn them if he comes near my apartment. But there's still a part of me that wants him to read the letters, I want him to know exactly how I feel about him and Peyton being together. Besides, the next few get a little nicer…maybe…

_Dear Mac,_

_You can't seriously be thinking on going back to London with her during Christmas? Yes, I heard you two talking about it as I was walking down the hallway to your office. Sorry for eavesdropping, but I'm glad I heard it. I thought we could spend Christmas together…two friends enjoying the holidays together. But it's your choice, you make the decision._

_Love from,_

_Stella_

_Dear Mac,_

_I'm speechless. Lindsay, she told me that you were going to go to London. And you told a lot of the others, Danny, Flack, Hawkes, so on and so forth. But had you ever thought about telling me? No. You'd be afraid to hurt my feelings if you did. Well, you accomplished that. But I'm even more hurt that you didn't even tell me face to face. I guess I should wish you an early "Have a nice time in London during Christmas without me". Have fun. But I'll still be thinking about you over the holidays and my love for you will never diminish. _

_Still loving you,_

_Stella_

It's the end of October now. Thanksgiving's only a few weeks away. Maybe I'll get to spend time with Mac then. I'll ask him tomorrow at work, maybe his schedule won't be booked on Thanksgiving. But after what I saw today, I don't think he'll even want to spend the holidays with me.

I'm sitting at the edge of my bed, staring at the clock as tears roll down my face. It's already two in the morning, but I don't feel the least bit tired. Sleeping is the last thing on my list that I need to worry about.

I walk over to my desk, turning on a lamp for a little light. I take my pen in my hand and begin to furiously write my heart out.

_Dear Mac,_

_I hate you. It's probably the first time I said it. I can't love you. You don't even notice me. I hope Peyton drops you; maybe you'll get a little understanding of how I feel. You barely talk to me anymore, what happened? Oh, wait, I know. Peyton happened. I'm thinking about taking time off or even resigning from my job. But who'd care? You wouldn't even notice. You act like I'm not there now, so what would change if I really wasn't there? I hope when you read this you cry, I hope you understand how you've forgotten a friend. But after what happened, after everything that happened, I think you should know this. You don't deserve to be with Peyton. And what Peyton deserves is to die._

_Sincerely,_

_Stella Bonasera_

My hands are shaking and I lose my grip on the pen, causing it to fall to the floor. I slam my fists on the hard surface of the desk and I cry, "Why, Mac? Why?" He ignored me, he never said he was going to London with Peyton, he lost his best friend. He kissed Peyton, and not just a quick kiss like the one at the airport, but one filled with all the love he has for her. The love he could have for me. And now, he has left his friend heartbroken.


	4. Lunch

**Thanks to all who put this story on their favorites lists and story alerts! And thanks to the reviewers! **

Chapter Four: Lunch

Mac is now realizing that something's up. But I'm surprised he noticed. Maybe it's because we argue more. Maybe it's because I don't talk as much anymore or that I don't show up for work as much as I should. But I'm glad he's finally recognizing me again, he needs to know I don't like him together with Peyton.

Lindsay, on the other hand, has done nothing but notice me. She agrees that Mac's relationship with Peyton won't last long, since they both live in a different country. But she keeps telling me to go talk to Mac and tell him how I feel. That's where I disagree with her. I can't tell Mac I think he doesn't deserve to be with Peyton.

"I just can't stand Peyton. With her in Mac's life, it's like he's completely forgotten about me, his best friend. And now, every time we try to talk, we argue. I want to scream out to him that I love him, but the problem is he couldn't love me back."

I'm sure Lindsay's heard enough of my complaints, my problems, and my worries. But she never admits it or shows that she has heard enough of Mac and Peyton. She seems to understand what I'm going through. And I couldn't thank her enough for that.

"He hasn't forgotten about you, Stel," Lindsay reassures me. "I just think talking to him, telling him how you feel will make things better. Maybe you two could go out to lunch, just like you guys used to do. And don't even bring up Peyton, think of it as two friends enjoying lunch."

Just as Lindsay finished her sentence, Danny came to our table, bringing our coffees. Lindsay thanks Danny, while I just nod my thanks. Danny also agrees with Lindsay—the two were dating, it made sense why he would agree with her—and he's trying to help me through this tough time. I'm thankful for both of their help, I don't know what I'd do if I had to face this alone.

"I suppose going to lunch with him wouldn't be a bad idea," I say, coming to my decision. "We'll talk, just like old times."

Lindsay smiles at this. She then says, "Don't worry, everything will be fine."

A few days after Danny, Lindsay, and I talked at the coffee shop, I finally find my voice and go to Mac's office to ask him if he'd like to go out to lunch. I've tried hard not to argue with him, and my tries have proven well. I think talking to him will be no problem, but when I walk into his office, I freeze up, like I'm scared he's going to yell at me for being there and send me out. It's a weird feeling, especially when I've walked in his office many times before. But that had been before Peyton.

"Mac?" I call softly.

He looks up at me from his desk.

I walk slowly towards his desk, not meeting his gaze. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Go ahead," he says, his voice showing no anger.

I stop walking just as I reach his desk. "You want to go to lunch?"

"Sure," he replies. "Where would you like to go?"

I try to hide my surprise as I think of the first restaurant that comes to mind. "How about Sbarro?"

Mac nods and he volunteers to drive us there. Once we had arrived at the restaurant and ordered our food, we began to talk, and surprisingly, I didn't freeze up like I had back in Mac's office. "I love the pizzas they make here," I tell Mac, taking a bite of my pizza.

"I'm surprised," Mac says.

I look up at him with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd want to eat here. And you also passed up on the Greek salad."

I shrug. "I like the pizza better. And I thought it would be nice coming to a pizza place, other than going out to a coffee shop or something."

We're both quiet for a while, as we eat our pizzas. Mac starts the conversation, but what he says is not what I expected to hear. "This isn't a date, if that's what you were thinking."

My mouth almost drops open. I shake away my shock as I say, "No, that wasn't what I was thinking at all. I just thought it would be nice for two friends to go out for lunch."

"Two friends of the opposite gender going out for lunch, it seems like a date to me, Stella."

"We used to go out to lunch all the time," I protest. "What's changed now?"

"Your feelings," he answers, "for me. You love me, but I don't."

I bit my lip. "I don't love you," I managed to say. "I like you as a friend. But I guess you can't even spend time with your best friend anymore. And because of that, you've lost your friend." I stand from my seat, glare at Mac for a moment, and then leave the restaurant. If Mac wants to end our friendship, then so be it.

_You love me, but I don't. _How can you say that Mac? How come you can't realize that we'd be much better off together?


	5. Friends

**Thanks for the reviews! I greatly appreciate it! And also, I mention the color of Stella's eyes in this chapter, but I wasn't sure if they were green or blue. I said they were blue, but if they're not that color, I'm sorry for the mistake.**

Chapter Five: Friends

It was hard to get through the rest of work that day. But when the day finally came to an end, I was glad to get away from the crime lab and Mac. As I enter my apartment, I hurry to make some coffee and sit down at my desk. I stare down at the pen in my hands and begin to write.

_Dear Mac,_

_You were right. My feelings have changed for you. I went from liking you as my friend to loving you. And I want to be with you forever. I understand you love Peyton and want to be with her, I'm glad that you're happy with her. I just think you should consider your friend's feelings as well, you knew me longer than Peyton. I love you, Mac. Nothing will change that. But can we still be friends?_

_Sincerely,_

_Your friend,_

_Stella_

A tear falls from my face and down onto the letter. I've written many letters to Mac, some full of hate, others expressing my feelings. I wouldn't let him see my previous letters; I've already told myself that. But he would get this letter. It was his decision if he wanted to reply back.

I take a sip of my coffee and then walk around my apartment. I am suddenly reminded of the night when Frankie attacked me in my home, and I get unsteady for a moment and collapse onto my bed, crying. I sit up, wiping away my tears, and take a deep breath. Mac was there for me during the time Frankie attacked me, why couldn't he be here now?

I watch TV for a while, but I can't seem to focus on listening to the late night talk show hosts. I remember Claire, Mac's wife, for some reason. I remembered how he had described her; she had had curly brown hair and blue eyes. I look in the mirror, and I feel as if I resemble her, for I, too, have curly brown hair and blue eyes. I wonder sometimes if Mac ever sees Claire when he looks at me.

I've kissed him before. But I haven't ever considered the reason why I kissed him. He didn't question it, I didn't even think about it when it happened. It just happened. And neither of us felt anything. If I had kissed him now, I would have felt love for him and he would have pushed me away.

"I love you," I mumble. "Why can't you love me back?"

Only the voice of the talk show host answers me. He makes some joke, the audience laughs, ha, ha. Even if his joke was funny, I'm not in the mood to laugh. My life has been turned upside down, how can I just laugh? It won't make my hurt go away; nothing could ever make it go away.

I grab my cell phone off the kitchen table and text Mac, saying, "Hi." I don't think he'll answer back, but what the heck, it was worth the try. When I go to bed, I place the cell phone on the bedside table.

12:30am: "Hi. What's up?"

I open my eyes and reach for the phone. It's a surprise he answered back, especially after what happened today. "R u mad at me?"

"No."

"I'm sorry about today."

"It's okay. Stella, I don't want to lose my best friend."

I smile. "Me neither."

"Friends?"

I nod, even though he can't see me. I reply, "Friends."


	6. Saying Goodbye Is Never Easy

**Thank you reveiwers and readers! This chapter's kinda of short, shortest chapter I've written yet...but chapter seven is much longer! Enjoy! **

Chapter Six: Saying Goodbye Is Never Easy

During the weeks that pass by, things go back to normal. Mac and I are able to talk to each other without arguing, and we even go out for lunch a few times. Neither of us brings up Peyton as we talk to each other, and I haven't let my feelings for Mac get in the way of anything. I have my best friend back, and I'm thankful for it.

It's nearly Thanksgiving when I figure out Mac will be going to spend the holidays with Peyton in London. I'm okay with that, Mac says plans have changed and he wouldn't be going to London during Christmas. Instead, he was going to spend Christmas with me, just like we always do. I guess I should get rid of those letters now, I'm not angry with Mac or Peyton anymore. And Mac's not angry with me, because he had replied back to the letter I had sent a while ago.

_Dear Stella,_

_We will always be friends; nothing in the world could ever change that. And I'm glad you're being truthful, you say that you love me. I don't want to upset you, but I must be truthful to you. I love that you're my best friend, but to love you as you love me, I couldn't do. Please, Stella, understand what I'm trying to say. _

_Your friend,_

_Mac_

It made me cry when I read that. But he replied back, and I now know that no matter what happens, we'll always be friends.

Today's Tuesday, two days before Thanksgiving, and Mac is departing New York. He asks if I want to come to the airport with him, and surely enough, I say yes. Since I wasn't accompanying him on his trip, I had to say goodbye to him before he reached security. Saying goodbye is never easy.

"I have a good trip, Mac."

He nods. "I promise to write to you."

"And I promise to write back."

He seems to have a hard time saying goodbye as well, because he is quiet for a while before he finally says, "Goodbye, Stella. I'll see you on Monday."

I nod. "Monday. Goodbye, Mac." And as he finally turns to walk away, I say to myself, "I'm already missing you."


	7. Will You Remember Me?

**As I promised, chapter seven is long! Read and review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song "Will You Remember Me" by Sarah McLachlan.**

Chapter Seven: Will You Remember Me?

Mac never breaks his promises. He didn't forget to write to me--we had to email each other because mailing one letter would take too long--and I didn't forget to write back. But I still can't get over the fact that I'll be spending the Thanksgiving holidays alone. Correction, I'll be spending the holidays without Mac. Danny and Lindsay were throwing a little Thanksgiving party with our CSI family. But one person will still be missing from our family.

I decided to come to the party, instead of watching TV all day and then eating Thanksgiving dinner alone. But it didn't matter. I should be used to spending the holidays alone. I usually don't have anyone to spend the holidays with… _You'll get your chance, Stella, _I reassure myself. _You're getting together with Mac during Christmas, remember?_

Lindsay and I are talking, and as Danny walks over to us, she asks him, "Did you have fun making that turkey, Messer?"

"I never want to see turkey again," Danny mumbled to himself.

"You got him to make the turkey?" I ask in surprise. "I don't know if I should eat it…"

Lindsay and I laugh while Danny just shakes his head. He then walked away from us, clearly not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. "I helped him make the turkey," Lindsay says. "So, you shouldn't have to worry. I made sure Danny didn't make any mistakes."

"Maybe if you get him cooking more, you'll turn him into your own personal chef," I say.

Lindsay glanced at Danny, who was now talking with Flack. "I wouldn't pressure him into doing that; I love him for who he is, even if he can't cook perfectly."

I nod. They love each for who they are, does Mac like me for the person that I am, even if he doesn't love me?

Dinner is now ready, and everyone hurries into the kitchen. I, on the other hand, get distracted by the piano by me. I sit down and stare at the keys for a while.

I play a few notes on the piano; it hadn't been a long time since I actually played the piano. It had helped me get my anger out on the nights I had gotten annoyed with Peyton or Mac. Along with the letters, this helped me forget my anger and I usually would feel a little bit better after playing a few notes. I had gotten interested in playing the piano so much during the past few weeks that I would try making up my own song. I hadn't succeeded on that yet, but with all the things happening in my life right now, it probably wouldn't take long to think of something. But what I began to play wasn't something I had made up on my own, it was a song that reminded me of Mac and I. I was surprised that I started to play the song; I was now getting attention from the others. But it flowed so naturally, like I was supposed to play the song, and I felt if I was home, singing to the walls that surrounded me.

_I will remember you_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by_

_Weep not for the memories_

I think to myself, _I'll always remember you Mac, but will you remember me? _And even though we were an ocean apart, I could just hear his voice saying, "I'll remember you Stella, and I will never forget you." I try not to let my life pass me by, but the more and more I hear this song and wish for Mac's love, I see life slowly passing me by. I'm becoming more distant, I'm letting myself look as if I don't exist. And I am weeping for the memories, knowing that all the times I talked with Mac, on the phone, at work, or when we went to lunch that I could have said to him, "I love you."

_Remember the good times that we had?_

_I let them slip away from us when things got bad_

_How clearly I first saw you smiling in the sun_

_Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one_

In my head, I'm asking Mac, "Remember the good times that we had?" Ever since he had gone to England for the first time to see Peyton, he seemed to have forgotten us, our friendship. Sure, we're friends now and we still enjoy each other's company, but he doesn't seem the same. He's not the person who I see walking along the streets of New York, smiling to me as he sees me coming. He's not the one who hugs me when I'm grieving. Not anymore. He's not the Mac Taylor I used to know.

_I will remember you_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by_

_Weep not for the memories_

_I'm so tired, but I can't sleep_

_Standing on the edge of something much too deep_

_It's funny on we feel so much, but we cannot say a word_

_We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard_

Sleeping has been hard for the past few weeks, but I know someone who's had trouble sleeping for a long time. I wonder…

The song always brought tears to his eyes. They had been driving back to Peyton's home, when he heard it on the radio. It reminded him of Claire, telling her that he would never forget her. And he knew she, too, would never forget him. But the song also reminded him of Stella, who was in New York City right now, an ocean away, a long distance away from his heart. He turned to look at Peyton, who was sound asleep next to him. He loved her, but after reading Stella's letters, after finding out she loved him and wanted to be with him forever, he started to wonder if he had a liking towards Stella, more than just liking her as a friend.

He still found it hard to sleep, even to this day. He was surprised Peyton hadn't ever noticed him, staying up late into the night. She might have noticed it, but she decided not to mention it only because she didn't want to know the reason why he couldn't sleep. Though he didn't know if he would want to tell her, it was personal and he didn't think she would understand. Stella understood, she always understood his problems. He looked up to the ceiling and whispered quietly so Peyton couldn't hear, "I miss you, Stel."

_But I will remember you_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by_

_Weep not for the memories_

_So afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose_

_Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose_

_Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night_

_You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light_

I haven't considered the thought, am I afraid to love Mac? I don't believe so, but I am afraid to lose him. I almost lost him as my friend once, would loving him be a risky thing to do? Would I lose my friendship with him if we decided to stop dating?

That's the reason, he thought. He recalled the sentence he had wrote in a letter to Stella only a while ago. _I love that you're my best friend, but to love you as you love me, I couldn't do. _He wondered if she understood what he was trying to say. She understood everything; surely she would have understood what that sentence had meant. He looked out the window—he had left Peyton to sleep peacefully; he couldn't stare at the ceiling any longer—seeing the city of London and the night sky full of many stars. "I'm afraid to love you, Stella," he whispered. "But I'm more afraid to loose you."

This was the darkness; this was the deep and endless night for me. It was the night Mac hated the most. I need him here to see the light in the day. He needed her here to finally fall asleep, to see the sun rise the next morning.

_And I will remember you_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by_

_Weep not for the memories_

_And I will remember you_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by_

_Weep not for the memories…_

"Weep not for the memories," I whisper, playing a few last notes before I say, "Happy Thanksgiving, Mac. I love you with all my heart."

Mac turned to look at Peyton. He loved her, but did he love her as much as his best friend? He turned to look at the window again and whispered, "I hope you're enjoying Thanksgiving, Stel. I miss you."

I turn away from the piano, only to see that a crowd had formed behind me. Of course, I knew that would happen, if you heard someone playing the piano right before you were about to eat your Thanksgiving meal, you'd come to watch the performance. Lindsay's the first one to say anything, and she's in awe. "That was amazing, Stella! I never knew you played the piano or sang!"

I quickly smile. Flack's the next one to comment on my performance, and soon, the rest of the CSI team is following suit. I appreciated all the applause and cheers, but I find myself crying, and I hurry outside. I hate to put people in an uncomfortable position, the others are probably wondering if they should go outside and make sure I'm okay or just continue on with Thanksgiving dinner without me. Lindsay faces the others, tells them to start dinner, and hurries outside.

"Stella?"

I look up at her with tear filled eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't want to ruin Thanksgiving with my crying. Escaping the thought of Mac is just impossible."

"Stella," she says again, taking a seat next to me, "you didn't ruin Thanksgiving at all. That song, I've heard it before. Even I cry when I hear it." I look more closely and see that her eyes are also filled with tears. "It's a sad song, and it took a lot of guts to play it. If Mac heard you, he would immediately rush to your side and apologize for everything he's put you through."

"If only," I say. I wipe away a few tears and sigh. "Look at me, I'm a mess. I must be terrible, weak, selfish boss. I should have considered your feelings and never put you through this. I'm sorry, Lindsay, if you want to, you can go inside and start dinner…"

"Stella," she says for the third time. "Do not call yourself those things. You are not terrible or weak or selfish. You don't have to apologize for anything. You helped me through tough times, now I'm going to help you through this one. And Thanksgiving dinner wouldn't be good without you."

I smile. "Thanks for the offer, Lindsay, but I think I'm just going to go home." I stand up from the step, but before I can leave, Lindsay puts her hand on my arm. I turn to look at her.

"You don't really want to eat alone on Thanksgiving, do you?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. "You probably have nothing made anyway. The others would miss you at dinner…"

I roll my eyes. "Fine, I'll stay for dinner. You're right. I don't have anything prepared for a Thanksgiving dinner alone at my house."

So I enjoy a nice Thanksgiving dinner at Lindsay's house, along with the rest of CSI investigators, or as I like to call them, my friends. We're a little cramped in the small kitchen, but we don't admit it. We don't have to. We're all having too much of a great time to think about the small room. Stories of how holiday dinners or parties take the turn for the worst are passed around the table, and we laugh at how Danny burnt cookies Lindsay told him to make for the evening, and Danny even laughs at himself for making a mistake. And in the end, I'm glad that I attended the party, because if I hadn't, I'd be home watching TV, eating a bowl of ice cream and wishing for Mac to be home. And I'm actually enjoying the evening, which kind of surprised me. Mac might not be here—he's probably already sleeping for that matter, England is five hours ahead of us—but knowing that he's having a great time with Peyton during the holidays makes me happy for him. And knowing he's my best friend makes me even more content, even if he doesn't love me as I love him, because in the end, having him as my friend is better than any gift in the world. If we can always be friends, then that's great. If I'm patient, who knows? Maybe he'll begin to love me, too.

As we clear the table—everyone decided to help with washing the dishes and putting everything away—Flack asks me, "Where did you learn to play the piano and sing like that?"

I shrug. "I guess I just loved singing as a little girl, and nothing stopped me from singing even though I couldn't take singing lessons. And the piano, I don't know, I guess when I play it, it just comes naturally. But I'll admit, I probably annoy the neighbors sometimes."

"Well, you did a wonderful job," Hawkes compliments next. "And you don't annoy your neighbors, you make them jealous because they can't play the piano or sing as well as you can."

I can't help myself, I have to smile.

"Well, if you can master singing and playing the piano," Danny says, "I think I can master not burning the cookies next year. And maybe I could learn from the best on how to make a turkey."

Lindsay blushes. "Danny, your cookies were fine. Anyone could have made a mistake like that. And I'm sure there are others out there who could make a better turkey that me…"

"Nah," Danny says with a shake of his head. "You're the best chef I've ever met, Montana."

Lindsay turns an even brighter shade of red.

"Okay, so we see that you love each other," Flack says. "Now do you want to help me with these dishes or not?"

I walk over to him and examine the dishes he has already washed. "You look like you're doing a good job so far. You don't need our help."

"Very funny, Bonasera, now grab a towel and start drying the dishes."

That made me laugh, and to see Flack hand washing dishes was hilarious. The others helped, too, it made the job quicker and soon enough, all the dishes were washed, dried, and put away. We talked a little more after dinner, but soon we were saying our goodbyes, each of us leaving one after the other. It is when I come home when I see the surprise waiting for me. As I check my email, I see that Mac's written another message for me.

_Stella, I wanted to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving. I hope all is well, and I wish you a good rest of the holiday weekend. I'll see you on Monday._

_Mac_

I smile. He remembered me on the holidays. I'm quick to reply back, and I wonder why he's still up and not sleeping.

_Mac,_

_Still not asleep yet? Don't be worrying about me, I had a great Thanksgiving dinner at Lindsay's house, she had invited the CSI team over to her house. And surprisingly, she got Danny to help in the making of the turkey. Danny also tried to perfect making cookies and burnt them instead. But forget that, how about you? How was Thanksgiving for you? If you're still not tired, maybe you can reply back soon?_

_Counting the days until Monday…three days not including today…can't wait to see you then!_

_Stella_

I watch TV as a wait for his reply, knowing Mac he would have stayed up waiting for my reply, as long as Peyton didn't see him on the computer. And it didn't take him long to reply back, he seemed as eager to talk to me again.

_Stella,_

_Peyton and I did enjoy a nice turkey dinner, just like you, but we didn't have burnt cookies on the menu…Otherwise; we didn't do much else today. But we enjoyed the holidays, and that's what matters. I'm glad to hear you had a good time at Lindsay's party and continue to enjoy the weekend. Only four more days until Monday! _

_Mac_

I'm lying on my bed, my laptop right in front of me, thinking, taking into consideration about how Mac seems to be yearning to come home. He emailed me tonight, something I hadn't expected him to do, and he still hasn't gone to sleep. Maybe I'm wishing too hard, but I believe that Mac is starting to reconsider his feelings for me. Maybe…


	8. Mac's Return

Chapter Eight: Mac's Return

When Monday finally arrived, I immediately rushed to the airport, to see Mac again. During his stay in London, he would email me once during the night, wait for my answer, and then he would reply to me the next night. In his last email, he told me to meet him at J. F. Kennedy Airport, just as I always would whenever he was coming home back to the city of New York. And I wait for him, a coffee in each of my hands, watching the crowd to see the person I love appear standing across from me.

The time seems to tick by ever-so-slowly; each moment that passes by seems longer and more excruciating. Crowds of people traveling alone and families walk by me, not any of the people that walk by me are Mac. The coffees are getting colder, and the coffee in my cup in almost gone as I keep drinking it. I finally get tired of standing and slouch down in a seat. I look besides me and see a man asleep with his mouth wide open. I instantly take my gaze away from him and move a seat away.

I awake from a nap with a magazine in my lap, which I had been reading earlier. It told of European travel and my mind goes back to the letter Mac had sent me during his first time to London, saying he wanted to take me there. I ponder about whether or not he'll take me there, but even if we did go, escaping from Peyton would be an impossible task.

I read the label on the coffee cup, which said, 'Warning contains hot contents'. I would now change the label to, 'Warning contains bland, cold contents, and its hours old'. I would buy Mac a new cup of coffee once he arrived.

Did I mention his flight came in at seven? I came to the airport at five thirty, only because I wanted to be early. I probably should have thought about buying him coffee around six thirty… I glanced at the clock overhead and realize that I've been asleep since six thirty—the wide opened mouth guy was still asleep, I wondered how long he'd really been there—and the time now is eight. I hadn't gotten that much sleep the night before, thinking about Mac's arrival on Monday, but I didn't think I'd be asleep for almost two hours at the airport waiting for him to arrive. His flight had gotten delayed…

I put the old coffee cup next to the sleeping man; maybe he'd want it when he woke up. I saved him from spending a few bucks. I threw my coffee away, for I had finished it way before I fell asleep.

I'm able to get through security and I sit in the waiting room, waiting, of course, for the plane coming from London Heathrow. I look around and see there are only a few people in the room, but with no flight departing from the gate after the one from London came in, there wouldn't be a big crowd. At this moment, though, I felt the emotion of fretfulness was exceeding, and I contemplate whether Mac's plane had crashed. Though I didn't believe that fully, airport officials would have gone around saying something about a crash if there had been one.

I close my eyes again, to see nothing but blackness. I can't sleep anymore; I won't let myself even think about slumber until I know he is okay. When he is here by my side, then I'll be able to sleep again.

Looking out the glass windows I see planes coming in, and I'm wishing that one of them is Mac's. The night sky is barely visible through the mass of the clouds, the night seems darker than usual, and I can't see the moon through the clouds. As I take my gaze off the sky, I see an airplane moving closer and closer to the gate, and in realization, I see that it's the plane that came from London Heathrow. I smile, and as I do, rain begins to lightly fall from the heavens, knocking on the window in front of me.

I turn away from the sight of the plane and sit back down. I keep my gaze on the door that would soon reveal Mac, and my gaze is so focused on the door that I don't even realize that Mac is staring at me, finding it hard not to laugh.

"Stella?"

I look up. "Mac, when did you…?"

"Blink once and you missed me," he says, putting down his bag and helping me up from the chair. Almost suddenly does he pull me into an embrace, but even my revelation doesn't stop me from holding on tight to him.

"Mac," I say, after a few seconds go by, "you're hugging me. Did something happen with you and Peyton?"

"No," he replies quickly. "I just missed you, Stella."

"I missed you, too." We're still hugging, and when he finally lets go, we stay quiet, and I have to say, "Come on, let's get you a coffee," to move him from his stop. We pass the sleeping man and he's now awake—odd—and taking a sip of his free coffee. "That was going to be yours," I tell Mac. "But I kind of bought it early and it got cold, so I decided to be nice and give it to someone who might need it when they wake up."

"How early did you come here?" Mac asks as we purchase his coffee.

"Five thirty," I reply. "I thought your plane may come earlier than expected. But instead, it got delayed."

Mac nodded his agreement.

"Let me guess, the weather caused your plane to be late?"

"Yeah, though it wasn't that bad. All I had to think about was you, knowing you'd be waiting for me. Thinking about you helped me cope during the long wait."

I grin. _I thought about you, too. How come it hadn't helped me during the long wait? _"Glad to be home?" I ask, wanting to know the reason for the extensive hug.

"Yeah, I kind of missed New York," Mac says.

We've collected his baggage now, I had volunteered to wheel it out of the airport for him; thank God it was only one suitcase. We're quiet as I pull the suitcase behind me, my shoes clanging on the tile floor. It's the fresh air outside that makes our conversation start up again.

"I'll drive you home," I say. "I don't want you to be alone again."

He looks at me questioningly, wondering what I meant by him being alone again. I'm thinking, _you faced a six hour flight alone and spent most of the day in an airport, waiting for your plane to arrive alone. _"Thanks for the offer, Stella, but I think I can get home by myself."

I grab his hand. "Come on. You'd have to wait for a taxi. It'll be quicker if I drive you home."

He doesn't protest, and I don't have to drag him all the way to my car, so it seems as though he wanted me to drive him home. And it's a good thing I did because he falls asleep during the ride. I let myself smile, now that he has returned home, he can finally get the rest he needs.

When I pull up to his apartment, I prod his shoulder with my hand to wake him, and he looks up at me sleepily. "Didn't mean to disrupt your sleep, but I thought you might want see your apartment before the sun rises."

He smiles and then gets out of the car, this time taking his suitcase. As we walk up the stairs to his apartment, he asks me, "Is there any other suggestions you have for this evening?"

Understanding his joking tone, I say, "Well, for one, make sure you get plenty of sleep, so that means no staying up late. And I don't want to see you show up for work early tomorrow, like I said, get all the rest you can get. Oh, yeah, now that Thanksgiving is over, you may want to start thinking about putting up Christmas decorations…"

He has already opened the door, and he says, "Goodnight, Stella."

Knowing I went a little overboard on the list, I say, "Goodnight, Mac," and wave to him before he closes the door. And when I finally arrive home, I fall asleep before my head even hits the pillow.


	9. Different

Chapter Nine: Different

Something has changed about him. I noticed it when he sent me those emails on Thanksgiving. And ever since that night when I drove him home from the airport, _he_ seems nervous around _me. _He can't look me in the eyes when we talk anymore. And now I have to talk to get_ him_ talking when we go out to lunch. The Mac Taylor I used to know never acted like that. And the more I think about it, something must have happened between him and Peyton during his stay in London.

If I'm ever talking to another one of the investigators and he's walking down the hallway, he'll quickly glance at me and then turn the other way before I can get a chance to call his name. His actions have raised my suspicion, and I wonder if he's beginning to develop a liking for me, more than just liking me as his friend. And then it hits me. The letter.

As night comes to the city, I tell Mac I'm going home early, and he doesn't question it. I don't speed, but I drive faster than I normally would. I slam the car door closed and fumble with my keys as I unlock the door. I rush to the pile of letters on my desk—I should really get to organizing them—and sort through the letters until I find the one I'm looking for. I reread it again and again, and now it finally makes sense to me.

_I love that you're my best friend, but to love you as you love me, I couldn't do. Please, Stella, understand what I'm trying to say._

He…he lied. He thinks…

I take the letter and run back outside, to my car. When I arrive back at the crime lab, I find him in the same place, sitting at his desk. He looks up at me with concern. "Is everything all right?"

I nod and then throw the letter on his desk. "You, Mac Taylor, lied to me."

He doesn't say anything, making him look guilty, so I assume he knows what I'm talking about.

"You do like me," I say. "More than a friend."

He picks up the letter and quickly looks at it. He looks up at me and says, "I might."

I sit down in the chair across from him. "It's okay if you like me."

He nods. But as I look at him, I see tears forming in his eyes. Then I think. _Peyton…_

"But you don't know who you love more," I say for him.

Again, he nods. Instead of watching him cry, I walk over to his side and envelop him into a hug. I can't stand to see him like this, accusing him of lying to me seemed like a cruel thing to say to him. I can't find any words to comfort him, for I start to cry as well.

"I'm sorry, Stella," he sobs. "I didn't mean to lie to you."

"You didn't lie," I say. "You said exactly how you felt in that letter. There's nothing you need to apologize for."

I hear the door open, and I immediately shake my head to Danny, who was about to hand Mac a file. He understands and leaves the room without question. I hold on tighter to the detective, wanting so badly to have never mentioned the letter. To see Mac Taylor cry was heartbreaking to me. I know now he has feelings for me, but he also had feelings for Peyton. He seemed confused and troubled, and the image of him like this would never escape my mind.

I tell Mac that he should go home, but he refuses. I don't try to convince him, so I leave his office, letting him to some time alone. Danny is waiting for me outside, and he asks, "Is Mac okay?"

I shrug. "Just leave him be. He's not going to want to talk about it."

Danny nods and allows me to be alone. But I'm not alone for long.

"I knew something had changed about him. Ever since Thanksgiving had he acted differently. He's in such a confused state, thinking about whether or not he loves Peyton or me. I'm not mad at him, I mean, how could I be? Seeing the man crying like that, it's such a dreadful sight. He hasn't ever cried in front of me before. And that makes me sad."

Lindsay nods, she seems to finally be lost of words. Maybe hearing that her boss had cried was hard for her to handle. Maybe she's finally had enough of hearing everything that happens between Mac and me. And as she turns away, I think she has had enough. I nod myself, and come to the decision to leave the crime lab for the night. When I get home, the image of Mac crying replays again and again in my head, and when I've cried all the tears out of me, I finally fall asleep.


	10. Snow, Ice Skating, and Hot Chocolate

**Thanks for the reviews, and thanks to all who read this story! I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

Chapter Ten: Snow, Ice Skating, and Hot Chocolate

One of the greatest things that winter brought was snow. Sure, it may get annoying having to shovel away the snow in your driveway and accompanied with it was the cold weather that many people hated. But even with the problems snow could bring, I didn't mind it. Snow helped me feel more in the Christmas spirit.

On this cold Saturday morning, I decided to take a walk. Bundled up in a heavy duty winter coat, I headed outside, prepared for the frigid weather. But I'm not walking alone this morning; Mac Taylor also finds the time to get out for the weekend.

"Mac," I say, walking over to him. "Enjoying the new fallen snow, too?"

He nods. We walk side by side, not caring for the cold. "This is my favorite time of the year," he says.

"Why is that?" I ask.

"Gift-giving, the cheery mood, hot chocolate," he replies. "And most importantly, spending time with my best friend."

I smile.

"Do you like the Christmas season?"

"Of course," I say. "Do you want to know my favorite thing about it?"

He gives me a look of inquiry.

"Snow," I say, picking up snow in my hand and forming it into a snowball, "my favorite thing about Christmas is snow. I'd always love to have snowball fights when I was a kid, and I might add, I still do."

"Child at heart," Mac says.

We come to a park, and as I turn away from Mac for one second, I feel something cold hit my back. I turn around. "Hey!"

Mac has his hands behind his back, but his smile shows his guilt. "Thought you still liked snowball fights?"

"I do," I say. "The question is, do you?" I pick up snow, not even taking the time to form it into a snowball, and throw the snow at Mac.

He smiles. "Weak, throw, Stella, weak throw."

I shake my head. Soon we're running around, hiding behind trees, and dodging snowballs left from right. In the end, we're both laughing so much that we both surrender and fall down onto the snowy carpet beneath us, catching our breath. We look at each other, and we're both smiling. I look up at the bright, blue sky and say, "You know what else I like about this season?"

"What?" Mac asks.

"Ice skating."

Mac looks at me, his face suddenly fear stricken. "No, Stella, no…"

"Why not?" I ask. "It'd be fun."

"Your definition of fun is different than mine," he says.

"And that can all change in a heartbeat," I say, standing up and brushing the snow off my jacket. "Come on, you'll enjoy it."

Mac stands up, shaking his head, but he still decides to come with me. He stays quiet during the ride, but once we get on the ice and start skating around, he starts up the conversation between us. "Did you ice skate a lot when you were child?"

"Only a few times," I say. "I fell in love with it the first time I went skating, and I would always beg my foster parents to let me go. Begging didn't always work, though. You?"

"Few times as well," he says. "Claire and I had gone ice skating a few times."

"What about you and Peyton?"

Mac shook his head.

"Have you told Peyton about Claire?"

"Not yet," he says. "I don't know if I want to tell her. Maybe I just don't trust her to know."

That makes me stop and Mac has to take my hand quickly before I fall down. I look up at him, forgetting to thank him, and I ask, "Do you trust Peyton like you trust me?"

The ice rink echoes our rising silence; even with the other people skating around us, they seem to pass by in quietness. I think he won't answer me, I've asked him enough questions for today. With the question, I've probably messed up my chance with spending the rest of the day with him. After what seemed like ten minutes of waiting for an answer, Mac replies, "I trust you more than I trust Peyton, Stella."

I need to stop thinking of questions, but I can't help myself to ask: "Do you love me?"

The question had been ignored, I had put Mac in an uncomfortable position, and he changed the subject abruptly, asking if I wanted to come to his place. I agreed to come and when I did arrive at his place, I was amazed at what I saw.

"Had I mentioned that I liked decorating for the holidays?" Mac asked as we walked inside his apartment.

"I don't remember you mentioning it," I say. "But I see you took my suggestion to decorate as soon as possible after Thanksgiving."

He nods. "Hot chocolate?"

I smile. "Yes, I'd love to have some hot chocolate."

He also smiles and then heads into the kitchen. I walk around the apartment, admiring the Christmas decorations. I'm reminded of the box of Christmas decorations that is lying on the floor next to the piano in my apartment. I'll have to put the decorations up sometime soon.

I walk towards the Christmas tree in the room, admiring how it is beautifully decorated with lights, ornaments, and garland. At the bottom of the tree I see a small gift, and I can just make out the name. The gift's for me. Mac already bought me a Christmas present. I haven't. I would go shopping for him this weekend. I quickly turn away from the Christmas tree as I hear Mac's footsteps coming into the room.

When Mac returns with the hot chocolate, we both sit down at the couch. "You did a great job with the decorating," I compliment.

"Thanks," Mac says. "Have you decorated for Christmas yet?"

I shake my head. "I'll make sure to put that on my to-do list."

We're quiet for a while, but Mac breaks the silence when he says the words I've been waiting to hear from him for a long time. "To answer your question from earlier, Stella, I do love you."

Resting my head on his shoulder, I say, "I love you too."


	11. Shopping

**Sorry I haven't updated for a while, this story is on my laptop and I haven't had access to the laptop this weekend, so again, sorry. Hope you enjoy the next chapter! Read and Review!**

Chapter Eleven: Shopping

I had mentioned I loved the Christmas season enough to Mac. And don't get me wrong, I love to shop for myself and others. But this time, shopping didn't come easy. I had been in store after store and I still couldn't find the perfect gift for Mac. I mean, what should I get for a man who always works? A vacation, maybe…I wonder if he's asking the same question about me to himself…

My list goes on, but nothing seems to be right.

_Vacation…no, I have no idea where he'd want to go…Yeah, right, you know exactly where he'd go…London, to visit Peyton. No, a vacation would not do._

_Gift card…no, seems like I had no time to find him a gift and had to quickly pick out something._

_Money…even more pathetic._

_A date? Not exactly a gift, but something nice…not a good idea. Don't want to cross the line of being friends…you're spending the holidays with him as a friend, Stella, remember that._

So my list doesn't go on forever, actually, as I think about it, I see my list in fairly short. Maybe I'm not such a good gift giver…

After I think my chances of finding something for him are over, I find someone who may be able to help me as a stop at Starbucks. "Lindsay!"

She turns to look at me in surprise. "Stella, how are you doing?"

"Great," I reply quickly. "You?"

"I'm fine, thanks," she says.

"Look," I say, before she can go on, "I'm sorry about a while ago. I didn't mean to overwhelm you with the news of Mac and everything…"

"It's okay. I guess hearing the man crying was hard. It must have been even harder to see him cry."

I nod, remembering how sorry I felt for Mac that night. "Anyway, I need to ask you a question. What do you give Danny for the holidays?"

"A hug, a kiss," Lindsay says.

"An actual gift," I say.

She smiles. "Buying Mac a gift?"

"Buying?" I ask. "I haven't found anything to buy for him yet."

"How about making something for him?"

I think about that, but immediately shake my head. "I love art, but I'm not exactly the person who can make arts and crafts."

"I know," Lindsay says, taking a sip of her coffee, "how about create song for him?"

"I just said I wasn't the arts and crafts type of person. And I've tried creating my own song, but it hasn't worked out for me." Man, did I feel desperate now. If only I could turn around and have the gift for Mac hit me in the face.

"Then sing for him. I've already slipped it to him that you sang on Thanksgiving, I'm sure he'd love to hear you sing for him. Gifts that come from the heart are better than any material gift."

I open my mouth to object to the idea, but immediately closed it. Mac had seemed interested in hearing me sing, but would it really be a better gift than buying him something?

"I haven't heard any objections yet," Lindsay says, waking me from my thoughts.

"Would you sing for Danny?" I ask.

"Maybe," she replies. "I'd have to take some lessons from you first."

I smile. "Thanks Lindsay, but do you really think that would make a good gift?"

"I know that it would make a good gift," Lindsay says.

"Okay, I'll sing for him. Thanks for the help, Lindsay."

"Don't mention it. Anything that'll help you and Mac get together." Lindsay walks pass me, her almost finished coffee in her hands. I forget about buying a coffee for myself and hurry home. Hopefully finding a song to sing for Mac will be easier than picking out the perfect gift for him.


End file.
